


Two Hours Difference

by Sita_Astray



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, but im an angsty teen writer sooo, chan is just there poor dude, changlix, i really cant tag help, kpop, mentioned chan, not that angsty??, poet!changlix, poet!felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 13:40:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14058174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sita_Astray/pseuds/Sita_Astray
Summary: Felix and Changbin. Changbin and Felix. Two boys separated by an ocean, their stubbornness to confess their feelings, heck, even by the sky that hung above their heads. But most of all… they were separated by time. Two hours to be precise.





	Two Hours Difference

**Author's Note:**

> Yayyy, first Changlix fic in celebration of Stray Kids' upcoming debut!! Can't wait! Anywaysss, I hope you enjoy even though this isn't necessarily the best thing ever but still~

“I miss you.”

 

Three words pierce the early morning sky that was still dim with the shadows of night.

 

_2:00 AM._ The time of the day where sleep overtakes the citizens of Seoul, empty streets and parked cars amongst the buildings. The time of the day where people lay in deep sleep or couples intertwine their hands together, in the early stage of it all. Not even the sun was awake, fog and a dimly lit moon still blanketing the calm city, save for the occasional airplane that crosses the navy blue sky.

 

It is now three minutes after two as Changbin sits at his desk, face being slightly illuminated by the dim industrial lamp perched on the far right corner. A pencil is held in his right hand, graphite nub reduces to a blunt point as the college student completes yet another sober poem that only he had permission to read.

 

A sigh escapes from the young poet, black strands of hair messily mussed up in a forest of silky vines and intertwining branches, as he swivels around and gazed at the cityline view his apartment offered. _I miss you_ , the final words of his latest poem echo in Changbin’s mind like deep church bells. _I miss you…_ Changbin absentmindedly traces his jawline, swift shivers of reminiscence dashing through his spine.

 

_2:24 AM_ greets Changbin’s eyes as he swivels back around to his desk, a small pout on his lips as he surveys the photo album that was composed of what Changbin could consider as different shots of a masterpiece. He was interesting that way… it was simply part of his character as Changbin had realized oh-so many months ago.

 

You see, Lee Felix was one-of-a-kind, an interesting pen that stood out from all the rest. It wasn’t just little spurts of elegant black ink he spitted out, eager to please and afraid of all improvements. Lee Felix… allowed the vibrant color of red correction to flow from him, little scowls and grumbles and a whole drama of jabbed fingers and criticism that all turned out to be constructive.

 

He was gone now though, a pen with dried ink. _Goodbye_ , Changbin had scratched with his trusty pen, biting back the words that refused to come out. _And if you see him, do tell Chan that he shouldn’t have moved from Korea._ It was scathing almost, a trick to see how the younger boy would react.

 

He didn’t.

 

The next day, he was only gone, a slight trace of him in everyone’s memories but all the same… _gone_.

 

Changbin turns back to the notebook in front of him and turns the page to a new, creamy blank one that painfully made Changbin think of the smooth porcelain of Felix’s skin. _Little freckles adorned his cheeks_ , Changbin recalls, absently dotting the paper with little black dots as he thinks of the Australian boy.

 

_Dammit_ , Changbin thinks, setting his world alight with a furious scribble.

 

_A sunset of paradise was what I once sought,_

_A universe instead was granted, mirages of gold_

_But as soon as I appreciated that the universe was what I got,_

_It was torn away and apart and I am left with pure woe_

 

If Felix was here, then he would be correcting Changbin’s work and making it better.

 

If Felix was here, he would be forcing Changbin to sleep with a beautiful grin.

 

But… Felix wasn’t here. His editor, his walking correction pen, his crush-that-was-actually-an-unrequited-love wasn’t in Korea anymore.

 

_No, life is cruel,_ Changbin muses, now doodling aimlessly in the margins. _Life is so so cruel and unwilling to tie that knot of happy endings._

 

And in Australia…

 

_Changbin,_ a freckled Korean boy writes as a final line to his first poem since moving back to Australia.

 

“Why am I still thinking of you?” two voices chorus together in two completely different locations, each boy setting down their respective pens.

 

You see, some bonds are just meant to fade into a painfully thin line, only seen by the very ones who created this line of thick ink.

 

Some bonds, as Felix and Changbin now discover with a sorrowful pang in their hearts, are only there to mark the times of the past, long-faded voices with the nearly lost echoes of stories.


End file.
